


No Promises

by Kitsu



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Sex, Blood, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, No Lube, Pain, Shameless Smut, Wraith, Wraith Feeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsu/pseuds/Kitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After barely avoiding being crushed beneath the ceiling caving in, Ladon Radim runs into something even more dangerous within the ruin's dark hallways.</p><p>Warnings: DUB-CON, Wraith-smut, enzyme-induced sex, unreasonable pairing, no lube, feeding, some violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Promises

**Author's Note:**

> This was written simply because I apparently take every non-existent pairing in a fandom I like as a personal insult and challenge. Also, because Shaded_Mazoku and I have decided that Genii are like brussels sprouts to Wraith; either you hate the taste of nuclear, or you love it. So I dropped the two of them in a deep plot-whole, and this is the sorry result... Enjoy it if you may.

Ladon woke to find his head throbbing and his foot broken, sharp pangs of pain racking his body. How and why a seemingly solid structure had caved in on top of him was a question he'd require an answer to at some point, but for now it wasn't a priority - finding something to apply as a splint to his leg was. He was alone, that much was sure - he'd taken point while exploring the hallways of the ruin and had barely escaped the avalanche of stone himself. Logically everything and everyone behind him had been buried beneath tons of rubble. If anyone had survived, they were on the other side of a currently impenetrable wall of stone. Picking up his torch, which was - luck be praised - still shining, and clenching it between his teeth, he used uneven stones and protrusions from the wall as handholds, managing to pull himself up onto his good leg. Panting, he hobbled further down the hallway, into the darkness, following a slight draft, a movement in the air.

The silence around him resounded, deep, crisp and total. Shining what little light the torch gave off around, he searched for any usable materials for a splint along the walls. There was nothing. Just bones and dust, remnants of the old city. Here and there the ground looked liked it had been recently disturbed, but he couldn't make out what had made the faint drag-lines along the ground. Something like a piece of cloth being dragged behind someone? A few footprints were visible, but how old and made by who was difficult to tell in the dry, dim gloom.

Hobbling, skipping, pulling himself along the walls, he gritted his teeth, bit down and swallowed the pain. There was no use whining, screaming, nothing - no-one would be able hear him. As long as there were air in the corridors and he'd manage to find moisture somewhere, he'd still have a chance of finding an alternate route out. If anyone was digging for him, and he couldn't be sure they were, they'd be able to follow him, he made sure of that by disturbing the ground as much as possible. Better to get moving than to sit around waiting for a cold, dry death.

*** 

Progress was slow, as he was basically one-legged and - after a while - sore-handed. His jaw was cramping from biting down on the torch for long periods of time, and he was starting to feel severely parched. He wanted to press on, but his better leg was starting to give out, his muscles sore and stiff. Sliding down along the wall as gingerly as possible, until he sat rested up against it, he decided to rest for a moment, to gather strength. It as the only logical course of action. He turned off the torch, wanting to conserve its power source. Touching his forehead, he felt cold sweat, finally taking notice of the violent pain-induced shivers running up and down his spine. He could feel his consciousness starting to slip and knew he was eventually going to faint. 

***

As soon as he started drifting back into awareness, he realised he'd been moved. He lay prostrate on some sort of even surface, seemingly unable to move. Trying nonetheless, pain shot up along the length of his leg, blinding in intensity. Biting it back, he tried again, gentler this time around, with a clearer mind. Testing each extremity in succession, he found that his hands were restrained by heavy leather-cuffs, however his feet were free. Twisting his head he saw that he was in some sort of lab, still inside the ruin, judging by the intricate, but faded artwork painted on the walls. The equipment in the room was most definitely not part of the ruin's original décor, though of a design he instantly recognised.

Wraith. 

He swallowed hard. Apparently he'd gone straight from the fire into...well...a boiling pit of lava or something to similar effect.

There was a murmur in the room, different from the previously dead-cold silence of the ruins. Someone - something - shared the space with him. He tried searching out the owner of the presence, but his restraints limited his field of vision. The sound increased, reverberated, transforming into something between a low hum and a growl. The voice that followed was abrasive, the vocal equivalent of loose gravel being ground together underneath a boot. "You reek of Genii." The words seemed carefully strung together, like by someone who didn't speak the language naturally, natively. "I...detest...Genii."

Something moved at the edge of his vision, something looming, intimidating, shrouded in shadows. Something definitely Wraith. Even faced with a tsunami of fear and panic, his mind retained a modicum of coherency and the one thought it managed to generate was "Why am I not dead nor painfully, violently dying?" More dying than he had been as soon as the roof had crashed down on him, that was. His mouth apparently decided that voicing what his mind had managed to string together was a good idea. "Why am I still alive?"

He hadn't expected an answer, but the creature's near-constant rumble continued, slowly forming words. "Your people are not to my tastes. After my last...sampling...I found that you turn my stomach. I have an alternative use for you." Ladon could have sworn there was mirth in the creature's voice, something almost...human. Something familiar. He chocked. He'd heard that exact voice before, though tainted by hunger and despair in place of mirth, and the memory it conjured up wasn't a pleasant one. 

It was Kolya's Wraith - the one rumoured to have let John Sheppard live through their first altercation-cum-collaboration, and more spectacularly - having actually saved him from the rogue Genii.

The creature stalked further into his field of vision - no more blurred presence, all the more terrifying Wraith. Exceptionally tall, it seemed to stare down at him with some sort of inscrutable intent. The looming Wraith _smiled_. "Ladon Radim," it murmured. "So glad to finally meet in person. I must say, you did appear quite a bit more formidable in the short glimpses I caught of you on-screen while in your people's...care."

The creature _knew_ him. Ladon swallowed - hard. He had no idea whether the fact that the Wraith knew him by name was to his advantage or if it left him in even deeper shit. His mind scrambled for ways out, for anything, for self-preservation. "You're the Wraith Kolya captured and starved, I assume?" he managed, digging out the information on the Sheppard kidnap-incident from some nook in his memory. Its further survival after the two of them had escaped together had been mentioned shortly in an info-sheet delivered to him by one of his seeded spies among the Athosians.

"Indeed." It stalked closer, to within touching distance of Ladon, and ran a sharply-clawed digit up along the length of Ladon's broken leg. Again, pain seared every nerve-ending in his leg, making him see stars and draw his breath sharply between clenched teeth. "How fragile you are. You...break...so easily. Putting you back together requires so much effort." The Wraith moved even closer, the feeding-hand slowly moving up across Ladon's stomach, towards his chest.

Eyebrows drawing together in confusion, Ladon rambled on, desperately hoping the near-mindless chatter would delay what seemed inevitable. "Back together?" he asked weakly. Why would the Wraith even be contemplating Genii healing-processes?

"You see, Ladon Radim, I am well-fed for the moment, and considering your kind tastes atrocious, tainted filth that you are, I have - as mentioned - better use for you. You - as I once were - are to be a bargaining chip. I am - unfortunately and most definitely temporarily - without a Hive and thus dependent on a Gate to move between worlds. This barren desert filled with ruins has outlived its usefulness, I shall need to move on soon." The Wraith tilted its head to the side, an odd gesture, leaving it looking almost quizzical. "Your people," it continued, "most likely searching for you and digging for your dead, have surrounded the Gate and have it under strict guard. You will get me to and through it, and for that you need to be alive and mostly on your feet. You must be able to move through the terrain without slowing me down."

As reasons went, Ladon supposed it was as good as any. It made sense, in ways. Even as a Genii, he recognised the truth of it - the planet was a dead, dried up hell-hole. "Even so, your plan seems flawed," he retorted. "As you already seem to know, healing a broken leg will take time for a Genii. Leaving me here, tied to a table while waiting for it to heal, is far more likely cause me to die of hunger, thirst or pure boredom. "

"Which is why I have no intention of letting time be the only healing factor. Time is something I have not wish to waste," the Wraith murmured.

"What do you mean?" Ladon asked. What other healing factor could it be thinking of?

The fingers on his chest curled slightly inward, angling sharp nails down towards the fabric and skin underneath. "Oh, so Sheppard never told?" The Wraith rumbled again, an almost content, happy sound. "Wraith feed to live. However, we may also bestow life, either to give back what we've taken, a precious gift - or to heal. Sheppard being the only other human I've given this gift to. He was near-death and I brought him back - gave him life." It moved both hands to Ladon's chest, deft fingers undoing buttons, almost gently. Only its soft hum and the rustle of fabric filled the air - Ladon was dumb-founded and speechless; completely helpless where he lay.

"I have reset the fracture in your shin-bone," Todd droned on, intently studying Radim's reaction. "The only issue is the actual regrowth of bone-tissue and the reduction of swelling in the surrounding areas. The Gift of Life will see to that." He bared Ladon's chest, pausing for just a short moment to consider how similar the build of his species' favourite food-source was to their own. They had obviously evolved in similar moulds - convergent evolution was such a fascinating subject. 

Moving on, he realised that Radim's position, prone and prostrate, made his task more difficult than it necessarily had to be. In one, swift, fluid motion he was in the air, landing in a kneeling position across Ladon's hips, far gentler and more graceful than his sheer physical size had foreshadowed. His feeding-hand was flush against Ladon's naked chest, nails digging into the skin.

Every fibre in Ladon's body and every instinct he possessed urged him to flee for his life, however restrained he was. He would have thrashed and screamed, but fear blocked his throat - all he could manage was an primal, silent scream; mouth agape and eyes rolling back. He bucked against the restraints, his back sharply arching. Feeling death approach, his mind reeled, blanking out anything but the need to _run_.

Suddenly feeling the Wraith lean in closer, its face only inches from his own, the white hair pool against skin, surprisingly silky, he was brought back to the moment and had to face his current predicament. The Wraith's raspy voice whispered softly in his ear, its words only warm puffs of air against his skin, eerily wiping the panic from his mind. "Relax," it said. "You won't die today, Genii." 

The sting within the feeding-hand pierced skin, far more slowly and with greater care than during any feeding. Todd released a large enough dose of the feeding-enzyme to calm Ladon, to stabilise him before initiating the rest of the process.

The rush hitting Ladon's system left him wide-eyed, silent and totally unresisting. Staring up at the Wraith hovering above him, he noticed the slight smirk on its face, the pulled back lips revealing a mass of razor-teeth. The star-burst tattoo framing its eye looked oddly fascinating, and if his hands had been free, he would have reached up and traced it. The compulsion to do so was so intense, so vivid he had to shake his head violently to rid himself of it. His whole body shook gently, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

"It is quite powerful, is it not? Addictive, one might say. It strengthens the human body, leaving us able to feed without you all dying instantly." Todd turned his head up, sniffed the air and grinned even more widely. "It does, however, have some side effects." He ground down, making Ladon painfully aware that he was erect beneath the Wraith. Noticing his shocked look, Todd ground down once more, for good measure. A little humiliation had never hurt a Genii. Chuckling, he felt the required compliance in Ladon's body and he initiated the transfer of Life, the Gift.

Arching his back and throwing his head back, Ladon pushed up against the hand, craving every little sensation it forced on him. The reverse feeding was nothing but bliss to him, as he hadn't been fed on beforehand. It was a cornucopian bounty of healing energy, washing through his every fibre. It was the most intense sensation he had ever experienced, and highly sexual in nature. Every ache and pain in his body vanished almost instantly, he could even feel his leg heal. He felt superhumanly strong, like he could accomplish anything, and he yanked hard against the restraints holding him down. Feeling them give, he yanked again, his right hand breaking free. Without thinking, he moved it to the back of the Wraith's head, tangling in its hair and tugging hard. 

He was rewarded with a hiss from the Wraith, who leaned closer. All sharp teeth on display, it growled. Ladon, without thinking, growled back, and bit after the Wraith, teeth catching on its, _his - Todd's_ , lower lip, breaking skin. Wraith-blood tasted metallic, just like his own.

Next thing Ladon knew, Todd's free hand had caught his wrist, pinning it against the table, claw-like nails digging into tender skin. The feeding-hand was removed from his chest, simply to wrap around his throat. "Do not test me, Genii," Todd hissed. "I take as easily as I give."

Ladon didn't care, he was too far gone. Bucking up against the Wraith, he made it clearly known why he was misbehaving. His cock was painfully hard and he needed release as much as he needed air. Whoever provided the release was not a question he even though about contemplating.

Todd's hissing turned into a low rumble, anger to interest. Giving the Gift didn't only affect the recipient, which was one of the main reasons it was a gift mainly reserved for brothers-in-arms. In a society ruled by a few, strong-willed females, but run by hordes of males, one learned to appreciate whatever intimacy came your way and one of those occasions were the Giving. The recipient this time wasn't his kind, but he played the game like one, under the influence of the enzyme. Todd felt himself oddly affected by the Genii's aggression, wanting to...reward.

Letting go of Ladon's throat, he moved his hand to stroke along the Genii's erect cock through the layer of fabric. The response was instant - a low, guttural moan. That particular part of their anatomy was obviously the same, and filled the same purpose. Rubbing it again he watched Ladon intently, studying his every reaction, every expression. Genii, as in fact most humans, were quite expressive, he though, remembering a similar situation in another time and place. When vying for dominance, they showed it. Letting go of Ladon's wrist, he raked his nails along the pale skin of his chest, across the bright red mark left by his feeding-hand. There was one difference in anatomy between wraith and human - the darker nubs on either side of Ladon's torso, seemingly adorned with metal barbels. As his finger traced over one, Ladon's reaction was instant and violent. He thrashed, writhed, breaking the other restraint, fighting for purchase against the surface of the table. Pushing hard away from it, he twisted sharply and threw both the Wraith and himself off the table, onto the floor.

Landing, their positions were reversed. Ladon sat across Todd's lap, hands bunched in the leathery fabric of Todd's black coat. A small voice in the back of his head whispered that if he had any shred of sanity left in him, he'd get up and _run_. He didn't want to. He wanted to fight the Wraith for dominance, to fuck - or be fucked. He didn't care. He just needed. Grip still on the coat, he leaned in, face directly in front of Todd's. "Wraith, if you aren't to kill me, finish this," he growled. "One way or another." Closing the distance, he bit down on Todd's lower lip yet again, harder this time. Letting go of the coat, he lifted his hands to tangle in soft, white hair - fur? Chitin? No matter what it was made from, he relished the feel of it against his bare skin. Pulling it firmly, he gauged Todd's reaction. It seemed to be fairly positive. Dipping his fingers beneath the leather-collar, at the nape of Todd's neck, he stroked the skin there, colder than his own, but dry, soft and pleasant.

Todd growled softly, pushed away from the floor and easily switched their positions around. Sitting up in Ladon's lap, he unfastened the front of his cloak and shrugged it off his shoulders, discarding of it quickly. His actions left him bare-chested, he'd never seen a need to wear anything underneath as his temperature mostly regulated itself. Unlike Ladon's, his torso was even in colour, the same pale green colouring every smooth surface.

Having decided to follow through on what had been started, Ladon sat up as far as he could, still with the Wraith sitting across his lap. He placed a palm against the dry, somewhat chilled skin and stroked, explored. Down, over, across his hips, along his sides. He had no idea whether his lust was purely a result of the energy-transfusion or if it was a result of his own twisted desires finally finding someone to latch on to. He raked blunt nails down along Todd's sides, leaving welts that soon healed. He couldn't break skin like the Wraith, but he could damned well try.

"My spine. Touch it." Todd growled, purred.

Ladon complied, sliding his palm backwards, letting it drift up towards Todd's spine, not knowing what to expect. What he found was bony protrusions all along the ridge, hard knobs not covered by the same cool skin as the rest of his body. As soon as he rubbed his fingers against one portusion, the Wraith arched, letting his head drop back and baring his throat. Even at a head shorter, Ladon felt in control for a short moment. Only for a moment though, until he was once more hit by the realization that the being in his lap was a fairly sizeable, fully vigorous Wraith. Still, he ran his hand up the whole length of Todd's spine, back up to the spot that made Todd react so violently, rubbing it intently.

The wraith growled deeply, before tilting his head forward again, staring down at Ladon. His feeding-hand came up to wrap around Ladon's throat again and he hissed. "On your feet," Todd commanded. Moving swiftly, he rose to his feet, hand still wrapped around Ladon's throat. "Turn, hands on the table." 

Ladon obeyed, swallowing hard. He felt the Wraith press his full length up against his backside. He was definitely as hard as Ladon, who wondered when Wraith had started to hunger for humans as more than a simple food-source.

Todd pulled at Ladon's trousers, tugging them off his hips. Hissing at the feeling of cold air against his skin, Ladon winced. He felt the Wraith move behind him, followed by the soft rustle of fabric. Then he felt bare skin pressed against his ass, chilled like the rest of the Wraith, but hard. "Spit," the Wraith said, holding his hand in front of Ladon's face, palm up. Eyeing the feeding-organ nestled in the palm, a devil struck Ladon. Nuzzling his cheek against the palm momentarily, he plotted. His tongue flicked across his lips, wetting them quickly. Tilting his head and facing into Todd's hand, he licked along the slit, feeling it open partially - the adrenalin-rush almost blinding. Todd instantly pushed harder up against him, the soft hum he emitted increasing in intensity. Tonguing the palm again, intentionally egging the Wraith on, Ladon felt the stinger extend partially, a sharp point hidden in the middle of the slit. It tasted of blood and something almost sweet, honeyed. 

Todd was breathing in short, ragged breaths, warm air billowing against Ladon's ear and cheek. "Spit," he repeated, urgency in his voice. When Ladon complied, the hand was reluctantly pulled back and wrapped around the Wraith's cock, providing just a minimal amount of lubrication. "This will hurt," Todd said. "But you will forget it." He aligned the head of his cock against Ladon's entrance with one hand and placed his feeding-hand against the Genii's chest.

Intense, searing pain hit Ladon like a sledge-hammer, blind-siding him, leaving him so out of his mind he didn't even notice Todd pushing into him, all the way to the hilt in one thrust. The next moment the feeding process was immediately reversed, more of the euphoric life force filling him, chasing the pain away, replacing it with ecstasy, want and need. Dropping his head backwards, he rested the back of his head against the Wraith's shoulder. The pain all washed away, he groaned, hating how much he enjoyment he found in being taken by someone who was basically the apex predator of their entire galaxy and his people's sworn enemy. It felt wrong, but so good. With the intense edge of the euphoria slowly wearing off, he noticed the Wraith's cock twitching in his ass.

"Move," he hissed, pushing back against the tall creature. He wanted to feel it, to be fucked. To feel the pain.

Todd saw no reason to argue, setting a pace of short, sharp thrusts. His feeding-hand was still rested against Ladon's chest, pushing him back against his own. The Genii felt warm under his touch, body temperature several degrees higher than a Wraith's, almost feverish in comparison, though he knew the man to be completely healthy. He felt so...alive. Ladon's head rested against his shoulder felt almost intimate, almost...right. He blinked slowly, realising he was going leave the Genii alive after their departure from the desert planet - if only as a 'thank you' for letting him feel something. The position they were in didn't leave much room for movement, so he urged Ladon to lean forward again to rest on his arms. Grabbing Ladon's hips, caressing defined hip-bones with clawed fingers, Todd started to move quicker, more intently. Completely focused on his task, he momentarily forgot how fragile humans were and drew blood, the claws leaving a few slowly trickling punctures and scrapes on the thinner skin along the inner ridge of Ladon's hip-bones.

Ladon hissed sharply and dropped his head, resting his forehead against the table, but pushed back, actually enjoying the stabs of pain. It cleared his mind, focused him. He needed something. Release, pleasure, pain. Something.

Todd noticed the urgency in Ladon, felt it infect him. Moving quicker, harder, he leant forward, wrapping his hand around Ladon's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, urging him on, pushing Ladon until he was panting and sweating, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck, curling around his ears. Not much more would be needed, and he felt the coil of lust tightening in the pit of his own stomach, so close to its breaking-point. Flush against Ladon's back, he licked along his spine, all the way up to the nape of his neck, tasting salty sweat, tinged with...something. Pheromones perhaps? Or simply Ladon's natural taste. Moving his mouth to the side, to the joint between neck and shoulder, he sucked on tender flesh, feeling a primal need to bite down, to mark what was _his_. Baring jagged teeth, he angled his thrusts, knowing the next few would push both him and Ladon over the edge into sweet oblivion, and bit down.

The hand wrapped firmly around Ladon's cock, the fullness in his ass and the sharp sting of teeth piercing skin pushed him over the edge, filling his body and mind with mind-numbing sensations mixing together, rolling through him in waves, and he came hard, a yelp muffled by him biting down on his own arm, as stars danced along the edge of his consciousness, threatening to blind him, leave him dead to the world.

Todd's last few strokes where hard, sharp, into the pulsing heat of Ladon's ass, the friction even sweeter as the the Genii came. The smell of his release, blood and sweat mixing together, the heat radiating from his skin, the sound of his heart beating rapidly - all of it invaded Todd's senses. It was primal, nothing less - scents and sensations from a time before time. Closing his eyes, letting it all wash over him, drag him under, he pulled Ladon close and came in violent shakes, filling his ass with his seed. 

Collapsing onto Ladon's back, he rested there for just a short moment. Slowly pulling free, he inhaled the scent of his own seed mingled with every other scent, adding another layer to the primeval scent. Finally, he straightened up and tucked himself into his trousers again. Searching the floor, he located his coat and picked it up, pulling it back on. He brushed a hand trough the tangled mess that constituted his hair, trying to pat it into submission and failing miserably. Turning, he eyed the hot mess that was Ladon Radim, leader of the Genii, half-naked with his ass in the air. It was not a totally unenjoyable view, and he huffed, then started to hum again. His lips drew back into a toothy grin. "Get up," he ordered, his voice tinged with mirth.

Barely lifting his head, Ladon eyed the Wraith over his own shoulder. "Screw you," he groaned.

"Technically, I believe I performed the screwing." Between sentences Todd's tone changed in an instant. "Get up. I believe it is time I leave this place, and you are...as they say...my ticket out out of here."

Realising the Wraith was being serious, Ladon pushed himself off the table with another groan and pulled his trousers up. Trying his previously broken leg consciously for the first time, he found he could put his full weight on it without issue. He had several new aches and bruises, but nothing serious. Stretching, he relished the last remnants of the enzyme in his system, combined with a a compelling drowsiness which would have to be pushed back for now. Looking around he found his shirt lying somewhere off to the side, discarded in the heat of it all. He pulled it on, and tried to smooth out some of the worst wrinkles. He knew he still looked like a roof had landed on top of him. As long as he didn't look like he'd been fucked by a Wraith...

_He'd been fucked by a Wraith._

Lords, he'd been fucked by a wraith and he'd loved it. Turning slowly to face the Wraith in question, he eyed him from top to toe. Tall, with tangled white hair, yellow, slitted eyes filled with mirth and malice, star-burst inking, vicious teeth displayed in a predatory grin, green-tinged skin, and dressed in what seem to be the compulsory Wraith uniform - black leathers. He'd let that creature take him, use him, and he'd loved it. It had felt like standing on a precipice and not knowing who was standing behind him, ready to push him off, like facing death head on, like walking straight into a fire-fight. His mouth snapped shut, and he straightened up stiffly. It was so wrong, but felt so good. "What now," was all he could ask, voice weak and shaking, as he wanted to sink into the earth.

"Now we leave. You get me past the Genii, I find a planet to gate to. After that...as they say...all bets are off."

***

Getting past the Genii proved simple enough. With the muzzle of Todd's weapon pressed against the side of their leader's head, not one of his kinsmen dared move, cowering in the face of a single Wraith. Ladon took notice, he would have to knock that out of them. If he made it back alive. 

***

At the other side of the Gate, in the centre of a lush, grassy plain, Todd lowered his weapon and stepped back. Ladon turned, at least wanting to face death head on, if that was what was coming to him.

"What happens now?" he asked, echoing his earlier inquiry.

"You wait here. I gate to another planet where my crew is waiting. What you do after that is entirely up to you. "

"You'll let me live?" Ladon tried to hide the single violent shiver trailing down his spine, but failed.

"For now. Next time... No promises." Feeling the primal need taking hold of him again, Todd closed the short distance between them, grabbed Ladon by the back of his head and kissed him. Hard, unyielding, burning. Biting down on Ladon's lip, he marked him, drew blood. Tonguing the small pierce-wound, he memorised the taste of iron and saliva.

Letting go just as suddenly, he straightened up into his full height, turned on his heel and walked away. Staring at Todd's back, Ladon thumbed his lip and licked the small stain of blood from the tip of his digit. "No promises."

FIN.


End file.
